Atonement
by GoTeam
Summary: Helena tries to deal with her guilt. H/B slash
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by someone else (i.e not me, unfortunately). Hopefully, no copyrights were breached in my making of this fic (I didn't mean to!) and I made no money doing this whatsoever. This is purely for my entertainment, instead of studying!  
  
Not two minutes after she had entered the Clocktower, Helena Kyle was collapsed on the couch, her previously discarded boots kicked to one side, a box of Pop-Tarts on her leather-clad lap, and a pair of tired feet propped up on the coffee table.  
  
"Rough night?" asked Barbara Gordon, distracted from her work by Helena's entrance, and trying to stifle a smirk at her young protege, unsuccessfully.  
  
"Nothing Pop-Tarts can't make better," replied Helena, ruffling through her tousled hair with one hand, the other holding a half eaten gooey pastry.  
  
"How can you eat those things?" Barbara asked, half joking, half wondering how the younger woman could find Pop-Tarts palatable. The subject was an ongoing joke between the two, and Barbara had long given up trying to figure out the reason of Helenas love for the sickeningly sweet monstrosities.  
  
When Helena didn't rise to the bait, Barbara grew slightly worried. "Everything okay?" she asked, realising how tired and worn out Helena really seemed.  
  
"Yeah," replied Helena, rather nonchalantly for Barbara's liking. Usually Helena was ready to tell all about her close calls and evening's escapades. But not tonight. Almost instinctively, Barbara reached out to feel Helena's forehead. Although her eyes seemed brighter than usual, there was no temperature, and Barbara put this down to Helena's weariness. Helena reveled in the comfort of the unexpected hand against her forehead, disappointed when it drew back.  
  
"You're not sick, are you?" Barbara asked, concern still clouding her jade eyes. Helena shook her head. Concerned by the lack of verbosity that usually accompanied Helena's presence, Barbara came to the conclusion that the problem was of the emotional kind, rather than the physical. Despite her glib nature, Barbara knew of the turmoil Helena suffered every day. The younger woman often tried to ignore it, but Barbara knew it was still there. Especially after the nightmare-ridden nights she and Helena had shared after the shooting and the murder of Selena Kyle, Helena's mother. Barbara also knew not to prod too much; that Helena would open up to her when she was ready. Still, there was the niggling worry that she might not, and it stayed in her subconscious, becoming more apparent at times like these. She brushed a soothing hand over Helena's brow, spotting the amount of comfort it seemed to give the other woman, and continued in that way until Helena had become slightly less distant. She was bridging the gap that sometimes occurred between them, and was sensing that Helena was ready to open up, when the Delphi alert rang loudly and shattered the noiseless blanket that had enshrouded the Clocktower. Barbara noticed Helena jump slightly at the noise, something she was not prone to do, and noticed her slightly increased breathing.  
  
"It's okay," she murmured, brushing her hand across Helena's forehead one last time. "Ill just go check, okay?" She knew Helena could survive sitting on the settee for a few moments, but for some reason, she wanted to reassure the other woman and make sure she was okay for that short time.  
  
"Looks like a bank heist," Barbara said. Knowing that Helena was exhausted, she decided to let Dinah handle it.  
  
"I'm gonna send Dinah in," she half-shouted to Helena, who was still sitting on the couch some feet away. Now that she noticed it, Barbara realised that Helena hadn't followed her to the computer bank. Even if she had just come in from sweeps, like this evening, Helena still usually had the energy to make sure everything was alright in New Gotham. Either lack of concern or lack of energy ensured her continued seating. After a quick message to Dinah, Barbara decided to leave Dinah to it.  
  
Thanks to Helena's training, Dinah had turned into an incredibly able fighter, and was more than capable of handling herself. Barbara allowed herself a moment of pride in her family, before returning to more pressing matters. As she moved back to Helena, she also realised that Helena had not lodged any objection to Dinah taking from her an opportune ass-kicking, and Barbara definitely knew something was wrong. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by someone else (i.e not me, unfortunately). Hopefully, no copyrights were breached in my making of this fic (I didn't mean to!) and I made no money doing this whatsoever. This is purely for my entertainment, instead of studying!  
  
Twenty minutes later, Barbara was cursing asking Helena if she wanted a drink. Although she was sure Helena could handle the affect of the alcohol on her system, she didnt account for the quick succession of vodka shots. A slightly inebriated Helena rubbed tiredly at her eyes with the heel of her hand, blearying her eyes further as the alcohol began to loosen her rigidity and her tongue. For this, and this only, Barbara was glad.  
  
She had hardly touched her glass of wine, leaving it to slowly evaporate on the kitchen table. She almost physically flinched every time Helena slammed down the shot-glass. Giving Helena time to open up, she busied herself mixing the condensation on the elegantly shaped glass with an equally elegant finger. So lost was she in her pattern-making that she didnt notice Helena staring fixedly at the floor, eyes bright with tears, tracks evident down her slightly pale cheeks.  
  
This shocked Barbara enough to leave her momentarily paralized - Helena crying? This was new, or at least it was in terms of the last three or four years. She remembered with heart-stopping intensity those first few nights they had shared together, comforting each other after terrible nightmares. Neither had gotten over those dreams, but for Barbara, this less composed control of emotion reminded her of a time when Helena was feeling incredibly vulnerable. * Like me * she thought, before snapping out of her thoughts, and silently moving over to comfort the younger woman. Helena immediately placed her head in Barbaras lap as soon as she realized the other womans proximity, clinging onto her as if she were her lifeline. * Which she is *. She felt Barbara running a hand through her hair, and a tear or two mingling with her own on Barbara's lap.  
  
They stayed like that for a while, in the dim light of the kitchen, and were still there when Dinah came in, half an hour later.  
  
"Hey, Barbara? You'd've been so proud..."  
  
She stopped shouting as she realized that both women were asleep at the table, a half-empty bottle of vodka and glass of wine to keep them company. Helena was half in a kitchen chair, half on Barbara's lap, snoring lightly. Barbara was also sound asleep, a forgotten hand tangled in Helena's hair. Dinah approached the table quietly, trying not to wake them; and, after deciding they seemed comfortable enough, covered them with a blanket and removed Barbara's glasses. If it hadn't been for the obvious gravity of the situation that had led to this, Dinah would have found it cute. But, as such, she sadly switched out the light and went to bed. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by someone else (i.e not me, unfortunately). Hopefully, no copyrights were breached in my making of this fic (I didn't mean to!) and I made no money doing this whatsoever. This is purely for my entertainment, instead of studying! Some strong language.  
  
She was standing on top of the Clocktower, shivering. * How could she shiver in a dream? * The thought lasted only momentarily before her subconscious rejected the notion and the dream continued. She could almost feel the whip of the wind against her skin, her usually protective leathers doing nothing to protect her from the piercing gale. She was soaked through, and she almost didn't feel the rain anymore. * Almost *. In front of her, two people stood. Her mother, and Wade Brixton. The people she had let die. Harley Quinn stood behind her, mocking her.  
  
"You got what you wanted, didn't you Helena? Barbara's precious little boyfriend is dead, because of you. I wonder how Barbara feels about that?"  
  
Helena bit her tongue, dying to tell the ghost behind her to shut the hell up, but decided that she needed the torture. It was all her fault. She had caused Barbara pain, ever since she had been taken on by the older woman. Ever since her mom died. Silent tears coursed down her cheeks as she remembered that fateful evening. Her mom, dying, her blood staining Helena's hands and the snow around her crumpled body. The crimson pattern on the snow was beautiful, in a sick kind of way, and Helena watched it in her dream, mesmerized, as it ran and seemed to absorb everything beneath it.  
  
She was distracted by an intense stare levelled at her. Wade. * I wonder if he knows I killed him? *  
  
"Of course he knows. Barbara knows, too," came the voice behind her. Helena hadn't noticed it before, but now it was clear who her psychiatrist actually was, she detected a slight hint of insanity in that confident voice. * And I trusted her with everything *.  
  
Angry at her previous uncharacteristic openness towards her former psychiatrist, Helena clenched her fists. * And Barbara wonders why I never open up to people. It gets them hurt *.  
  
"You know, I'm surprised Barbara lets you sleep under the same roof after what you've put her through."  
  
Helena turned around, but instead of Quinn, she saw a younger version of herself. A rememberance of her troubled teenage years. Sure, most people went through a lot of pain at that age, but Helena saw them as not only painful, but symbolic of her weakness, her vulnerability; her guilt. She remembered Barbara discovering a syringe she had carelessly left on her desk, obviously used. Prompted by concern for Helena's well-being, Barbara had done something she would never have normally done: she searched Helena's drawers, discovering in the process some razorblades and lighters. When she had been confronted with them, Helena barely remembered feeling anger at Barbara for invading her privacy: she felt immediately guilty and upset that she had disappointed Barbara and caused her pain, the very thing she could do without. It was kind of ironic that Helenas means of escaping the pain would cause Barbara more pain than she would ever admit. She had known Helena to be a 'free spirit', skirting on the edge of everything she thought worth living for. How had two so different women managed to live together all these years?  
  
"You're digressing," the younger Helena said, almost rolling her eyes at the apparent melodrama of the situation.  
  
"Fuck off," Helena snarled, angry at an interruption of her thoughts, no matter how unhappy they were.  
  
"Oooh, temper temper," younger Helena said, wagging a taunting finger. "Remember, that's what got you into trouble in the first place."  
  
Helena did indeed remember. If it hadn't been for her temper, she would have never had to see Harleen Quinzel and revealed everything. After such a violation of trust and her emotions, Helena felt raw and exposed, guilt being her foremost feeling of recent weeks. If it hadn't have been for Quinn, she wouldn't have admitted her dislike of Wade, and he would never have been killed. Of course, the one thing she didn't reveal to Quinzel was the reason for her dislike. It was more than dislike: it was jealousy. The arrival of Wade had caused her to realize that she wanted Barbara to herself: that she loved Barbara. This only made things confusing, as Helena was sure it was unrequited.  
  
"Lets face it, Helena. You've always loved her but haven't had the guts to admit it. You're a chicken, a failure, and your weaknesses have caused Barbara more pain than you could ever imagine. Its all your fault...."  
  
"I said, FUCK OFF!"  
  
Helena swirled around to face her antagonist. And instead, she came face to face with Barbara. Shock at the current twist of events made her momentarily speechless, and she grasped for words, her tongue feeling foreign in her mouth. The only words she could come up with seemed woefully inadequate.  
  
"I'm sorry." 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer - see part 1  
  
Helena could see Barbara's lips start to move, but no sound came out. Then, as though through a thick fog, she started to hear a voice.  
  
"......na......up....."  
  
Helena turned around to face her mother. Her face still remained a blank, showing no recognition for her daughter. No love. Wade was the same, but Helena didn't care so much about him.  
  
"Hel......wake up..."  
  
Dimly, she could feel herself moving, consciousness skirting around the edges of her vision. With a jerk, she left the dream world behind, and sat up with a gasp. A cool hand brushed across her sweaty forehead, while another rested over her thundering heart. Helena was still gasping for breath when she realized where she was and that it had just been a dream. *The same one that's been bothering me for so long*. This time, however, she had woken Barbara up, and knew that she could no longer hide her true feelings from her. Once Barbara was determined to know something, she usually found out.  
  
"Shhhh, it' okay, it was just a bad dream."  
  
Helena realized that she was crying, but was too distraught to stop herself. Barbara embraced her and murmured comforting thoughts in an effort to calm the tormented woman. She barely heard Helena through the tears.  
  
"I killed them. She said I did, and I did. It's all my fault..."  
  
"Helena, what are you talking about?" Barbara sounded concerned, as well as slightly exasperated: she had a slight idea of what Helena was talking about, but wasn't sure.  
  
"Mom. I want my mom."  
  
These words shook Barbara. She hadn't heard them in over seven years, and didn't expect to hear such a statement of vulnerability from Helena. She didn't know what to say.  
  
"I killed her. I killed Wade. I - "  
  
"Helena, you did no such thing!" Barbara almost snapped. She couldn't believe that Helena still held herself responsible for Wade's death, and didn't know she blamed herself for her mom's murder. "Quinn killed Wade, not you. And your mom was most definitely not killed by you."  
  
"But I told Quinn all about Wade. I said I didn't like him. And I could have saved mom." Helena's sobs had subsided to hiccups, making it difficult to breathe.  
  
"Calm down, honey. None of it was your fault. How can you think that? Quinn is a killer, and you didn't give up the information voluntarily."  
  
"Y-yes, I did. About Wade, anyway."  
  
"Listen, Helena. I know you didn't like Wade. You trusted your therapist with something you didn't think would amount to anything, and she violated your trust. You played no part in his death."  
  
"She killed him for me, though."  
  
Barbara was finding this conversation as difficult as Helena. His murder was still recent in her mind, but that wasn't what bothered her the most. What bothered her the most was that she realized she didn't love him as much as she thought she did. His death, while tragic, didn't cause as many strong feelings as Helena's current pain and well-being did. To tell the truth, she cared a lot more for Helena than she ever did for him, or his parents. Although she didn't appreciate Helena's honesty about her feelings for Wade whilst they were dating, she now realized that Helena probably cared for her enough to challenge the romantic choices she had made, to make sure they were the right ones.  
  
"Sweetie, this is none of your fault. Quinn found a weakness and exploited it. She's the one to blame. And she can't do any more harm. She's behind bars, as is most of her syndicate, where they belong. You're safe here, and I plan to keep it that way."  
  
Barbara had the feeling that Helena was worried about the security of the Clocktower after Quinn's access. She followed a proven formula she'd exercised when Helena had come to her after nightmares before: she reassured her that she was safe, and that she would let nothing harm her. She truly meant them, but Barbara could not help feeling a little guilt at Helena's anguish over the years. The times when she'd been hurt on sweeps; when she couldn't deal with her anger. She had always tried to pick up the pieces, but still felt a little guilty at not being able to protect Helena as she had promised.  
  
Helena, however, felt differently. She relaxed into Barbara as her breathing finally slowed down. As she felt a hand smooth her hair, she thought of all the times she had come to Barbara like this: how many times Barbara had closed her wounds, internal and external. After her latest catharsis, she felt grateful for having such a caring person to live with.  
  
"I'm sorry," she mumbled into Barbara's shoulder. "I just can't help feeling like it's my fault Wade died. If I hadn't told Quinn, he would still be alive today."  
  
Barbara was stumped. Should she tell Helena about her true feelings? Maybe later. Enough emotional stress was hanging around to last them a month or two, and she didn't need to add to it. And telling Helena about her feelings for Wade would probably force herself to admit that she never loved him in the first place. 


	5. This Protector

Disclaimer - see Part 1. Namesake- This Protector by the White Stripes. I dont own it, they do, those musical geniuses.  
  
"Come on, let's get you into bed," said Barbara, knowing that what Helena needed most was a good night's sleep. Helena noticed the quick change of subject, but was too tired to argue, especially after telling Barbara her feelings on a very sensitive subject. She assented, and slowly stood, stretching her arms with a very cat-like grace. This ease of movement always fascinated Barbara, and she wondered what else Helena had inherited from her mother. Without a word, Helena started for Barbara's room, and Barbara didn't mind in the least. It reminded her of the 'good old days', as Helena had once called them, an attempt of hers to cover up potentially painful memories with a sarcastic tag. It was the way she dealt with things, Barbara thought, and followed Helena into her room.  
  
Five minutes later, Barbara had a possessive arm draped over Helena's midsection, listening to her quiet breathing. It hadn't taken her long to fall asleep, and Barbara had promised to chase any bad dreams away. Times like these reminded Barbara of how child-like Helena could be sometimes: she still needed comforting, and Barbara didn't blame her. She idly traced an intricate tattoo with her finger, before Helena turned around in her sleep to face her. Unconsciously, she lifted a leg over Barbara's and moved her head onto the same pillow. Barbara's breath caught at the sudden proximity, feeling Helena's steady breathing on her neck. She planted a kiss on the top of Helena's head, before tucking the covers more comfortably around them and falling into peaceful sleep.  
  
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The alarm woke them both at 6:30. It was another glorious schoolday, and Barbara had forgotten completely about it. *That's a first*.  
  
"Ungh," groaned Helena, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake up. "How do you get up so early every morning?" she asked Barbara, amazed at the older womans stamina.  
  
"Practice, and lots of coffee," said a barely conscious Barbara, the warmth of their bodies causing her to be a little more drowsy than usual. "Oh, and Dinah. She is NOT driving the Hummer."  
  
"Good point," agreed Helena, not wanting to move out of Barbara's arms.  
  
"C'mon," said Barbara, not really wanting to get up either, but doing so nonetheless. "The kids won't teach themselves, and the inspectors are in today." Her slight humor alleviated the tension of the previous night, and Helena was glad. Still, she felt like she had to say something.  
  
"Thank you for last night," she said, feeling slightly foolish in her moment of weakness.  
  
"What for?" asked Barbara. "You know you can talk to me."  
  
"I know. Just....thanks for listening. And helping me feel safe again."  
  
Barbara couldn't describe the emotions she felt at the last statement. She knew it was hard for Helena to be completely open, and felt incredibly glad that Helena trusted her. Out of impulse, she reached out to flatten a tuft of Helena's extremely messy hair, and placed a light kiss on her temple.  
  
"You're more than welcome."  
  
*I wonder if Helena knows how welcome she is?*  
  
Helena flushed a little at the brush of Barbara's lips against her pulse point, and felt her pulse increase accordingly. "I guess I'd better do some work today," she said, not wanting to ruin the beauty of the moment. Reluctantly, she pulled back the covers and slowly got out of bed. "I'll see you later?" she asked, knowing that she and Dinah had a training session after school.  
  
"Definitely," said Barbara, smiling as she lifted herself by the bars and maneuvered into her chair. "Sweeps tonight?"  
  
"Sure," Helena smiled. As soon as she was out the door, she nearly jumped for joy. She didn't know why; she just knew that Barbara always cheered her up. Running up the stairs two at a time, she quickly showered and threw on some clothes, saying goodbye to a bemused Barbara and a semi- comatose Dinah before leaving for the bar.  
  
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"Huntress, they're on West and Fifth." Oracle's clear, confident voice helped fuel Helena toward her destination. *She has faith in me* she thought, before leaping onto the next building. *More than I do in myself, sometimes.*  
  
She slowed to a halt as she approached her destination. "They're heavily armed, Oracle, she whispered into the receiver. Six men in balaclavas and black clothes were in the process of stealing some valuable artwork from the New Gotham Museum of Modern Art. "I'll be damned if they steal the Picasso."  
  
Barbara laughed at that. She had never thought of Helena as being an avid art fan, but it turned out she was, and a particular follower of The Spaniard, Picasso. Perhaps it was the skewed version of reality that particularly appealed to Helena, Barbara didn't know, but ever since she'd found out, they had made as many trips to the gallery as possible. She also knew which painting Helena loved the most. She returned to the situation at hand. "Do you want Dinah to come up there?" she asked, slightly worried at the presence of weapons.  
  
"Nah, it should be okay. I can get the drop on them from here, and there aren't many of them."  
  
How wrong she was had yet to be proved. Silently, she slunk to the fire escape, hoping that the added height would give her a greater impact. Making up her mind, she quickly dropped onto the first man, sending him crumpling to the ground. The suddeness of the attack and the quick removal of his shotgun ensured that the first of the thieves was incapacitated. *Now for the others*.  
  
Keeping her momentum, Huntress raced forward, completely unaware of the two figures inside the museum's cafe door, keeping guard. She efficiently knocked the other two men out at once with the butt of the shotgun she still carried, waiting for the other three men to appear on the roof. When they took longer than expected, she slipped inside the glass doors, unaware that as she did so, the two men in the cafe had stepped out of the shadows.  
  
The only light provided was from a high-power halogen lamp. The museum was completely empty, and with the security having completely disabled, Helena could move with ease. She could easily hear the men's voices below, and looked over the edge of the railing to make sure there were, indeed, three men down there. *Easy does it* she thought, before grabbing onto the railing and vaulting onto the ground below in an effortless flip.  
  
"Hello, boys."  
  
Before any of them could move a muscle, Helena had flipped over to them and kicked two into the wall, knocking them out. The third, while trying to aim his rifle, got it knocked back into his face, instantly breaking his nose and sending him to the floor, sprawling in agony.  
  
"Oracle, I got 'em," Huntress said, adrenaline pumping in her veins. "You can probably send the cops over now."  
  
Whilst she listened to Barbara on the other end of the line, she didn't hear the footsteps coming down the stairs.  
  
The click of the safety caught her attention, but it was too late. A bullet, red-hot, followed by another, had entered her body somewhere, she didn't know where. All she knew was that she felt fierce pain everywhere, and she doubled over in agony.  
  
"Oh, shit," she mumbled, tasting the blood rising in her throat. "Oracle, I need Dinah." These few words cost her all the energy she had, and she collapsed.  
  
Barbara had heard the first shot, and was already contacting Dinah when she heard the second. "Helena!" *To hell with codenames*. "Dinah's on her way, just hang on," she said, the panic in her system making it hard to breathe, let alone think. She heard Helena's strained breathing over the comm, as well as the voices of two men, obviously the shooters, discussing what to do with her. Helena was probably unconscious by now, and completely helpless until Dinah arrived. Barbara almost couldn't handle the frustration of being trapped in the chair, and was tempted to take out her anger on the expensive computers in front of her. *Helena needs you, you can't lose control now!* She quickly called for Alfred.  
  
"Yes, Miss Barbara?"  
  
"Could you get the bed ready, please? And look out the bandages and emergency kit? The one with the morphine?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Barbara. Is everything all right?"  
  
Barbara sighed. "No, its not." 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer - see Part 1. Some strong language.  
  
  
  
Harley Quinn wiped the blood from her nose. And laughed. It was an insane laugh, and Helena was fed up of hearing it.   
  
"Can't you just shut the fuck up for once?" she yelled, before landing a solid kick to Quinn's head. She felt a certain satisfaction in exacting her revenge on the woman who had made her life a living hell for the past year. She didn't notice the incongruity; she didn't care where she was, or why she was there. All she cared about was extolling as much pain upon the other person as she had Helena. Slightly winded, Quinn straightened up. Her laugh was a little less confident, now, as she struggled to maintain her balance.  
  
Helena couldn't resist a smirk. "Hurts, doesnt it?"  
  
  
  
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Barbara was struggling valiantly to keep a delirious Helena still. She was in the throes of a low-grade fever, and seemed to be fighting something.   
Barbara hadn't felt as scared as this in a long while. She had managed to remove the bullets while Helena was still unconscious, shooting her with enough morphine to keep the pain at bay. Pristine bandages covered neat stitches in Helena's abdomen and shoulder, and Barbara was worried that Helenas movement might tear the stitches. Having decided the med-bed was probably not very comfortable, she had moved Helena into her room, which was slightly easier to access than Helena's.   
  
Barbara decided against injecting more morphine, worried that she would never be able to bring Helena round. She was having enough trouble as it was.   
  
"Dinah? Can you give me a hand in here?" She shouted loudly enough for anyone else in the Clocktower to hear her, and soon, a shaken and worried Dinah was standing in the doorway.   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do you think you could talk to her?"  
  
Dinah knew what Barbara meant. She quickly crossed the room, pausing momentarily to ask the concerned redhead if Helena would mind.  
  
"That's not what concerns me at the moment," Barbara replied, knowing that Helena would not like anyone seeing what was in her head, let alone Dinah, whom she had known all of a year. Sure, Helena loved her, in her own, sarcastic way, but Barbara seemed to be the only one she trusted with her darkest thoughts and fears. Barbara couldn't help but feel a little guilty, but was also very worried about Helena.  
  
Dinah nodded, and raised her hand to Helena's warm forehead. "Here goes nothing..."  
  
All of a sudden, she was on a rooftop. She was standing behind a trembling Helena, and in front of her, she could see a blonde woman. Quinn. Helena seemed to be saying something to the beaten woman in front of her, but she was too far away to make it out. She could, however, sense Helena's anger and pain, and was slightly overwhelmed by the feelings. She began to understand a little what Helena wanted to hide from her.   
  
Coughing slightly, so as not to startle Helena, she slowly walked forward. Still, Helena did not turn to look at her.   
  
"Hel......" Dinah approached with some trepidation. She could almost feel the tension from Helena's body, radiating off her in invisible waves.   
  
"Kid, what are you doing here? You need to go."  
  
Helena's reply was terse and ground out through gritted teeth.   
  
"Helena, you need to get out of here. Barbara's worried about you."  
  
"And where exactly is here?" Helena asked, slightly confused. She started to realize that maybe the landscape wasn't as real as it seemed.   
  
"You don't remember?" Dinah asked, hoping Helena's memory would return. "You were shot in the art gallery. Barbara cleaned you up, but you're still unconscious."  
  
Just the mention of Barbara's name caused Helena to turn around involuntarily, taking her eyes off the pitiful heap before her and focusing on Dinah.   
  
Flashes of what had happened started to play in her mind's eye, reflected by the gloomy sky above.   
  
"Whoa," Dinah exclaimed, seeing what Helena had seen before she had been taken down. "You remember?"  
  
"Now I do," Helena said, shaking her head as if to dispel the images.   
  
"Listen, Hel, you need to wake up. Barbara's worried about you," Dinah said, approaching Helena with more confidence and laying a hand on her arm. "I'm worried about you."  
  
Helenas eyes flicked up briefly in surprise, but instead of making a remark, she closed them and sighed.   
  
"I don't know if I want to go back," she said, casting a glance back to Quinn's crumpled form.   
  
"You have to," Dinah stated emphatically. "Barbara needs you."  
  
"No, she doesn't. I've caused her nothing but pain."  
  
"And you'll cause her more pain by giving up on her. Please, you've got to wake up." Dinah heard Barbara's voice in her ear, calling her back.   
  
Before she could say anymore, Dinah disappeared, and Helena was left alone to her thougts.   
  
  
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Dinah's shoulders jerked as she came back to reality. Barbara looked at her, concerned.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asked, knowing that inside Helena's head was probably not a trip worth repeating.   
  
"Yeah," Dinah exhaled, slumping into a chair Barbara pulled out for her. "She's fighting Quinn in there. And herself."  
  
Barbara closed her eyes briefly. "Did you talk to her?"  
  
"Yeah. I just hope she listened."  
  
As if on cue, Helena started to stir. Barbara immediately resumed her hold on Helena's hand, coaxing her back into consciousness, but not before casting a thankful glance at Dinah.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered, close to tears.  
  
Dinah smiled and left them to it.  
  
  
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BThree hours later/B  
  
  
Helena grimaced a little as Barbara pulled out the IV.   
  
"Much better," she sighed, scratching the area with her good hand.   
  
"Hey, no scratching!" Barbara admonished, only slightly serious. She still couldn't believe that Helena was finally conscious.  
  
Helena stuck out her tongue, before leaving the area alone and settling back into the pillows. "Now, this is the life. A comfy bed, daytime TV, and someone to answer all my whims."  
  
"You should be so lucky!" Barbara said, laughing at the smile on Helena's face. *Its so good to have her back.* " Talking of, lots of bed-rest for you, young lady.  
  
"But, -"  
  
"No buts."  
  
"How about butts?"  
  
Barbara couldn't contain a smile. "We'll have to see about that."  
  
Helena could hardly believe it. "Is that an offer?"  
  
"Be good, and you'll find out."  
  
*Is Barbara flirting with me?*  
  
"Oh, Miss Gordon, is that a threat?"  
  
'Damn right," said Barbara, leaning in to place a tender kiss on Helena's lips. *Damn the consequences. I love her, she needs to know it*.   
  
Helena could hardly believe what was happening, but was spared an answer by a knock on the door. Barbara quickly pulled away, cheeks flushing as Dinah entered the room, along with a plate of Pop-Tarts.   
*Barbara looks so cute when she blushes * Helena thought, licking her lips and staring at Barbara brightly. Barbara purposefully ignored her gaze, instead welcoming Dinah.   
  
"I brought your favorite," she told Helena, holding out the plateful of pastries.   
  
Helena gazed wide-eyed at the plate before her. Could this day get any better?


	7. Final Chapter?

Disclaimer - see Part 1  
  
Helena awoke when she felt hair flit across her nose. The ticklish sensation brought her to consciousness slowly, and she lesuirely took account of her surroundings without opening her eyes. She could feel pressure upon her unhurt shoulder, and felt deep, even breathing against her chest. *Barbara*. The hair belonged to her, and it was dancing in the breeze caused by a slightly opened window. It was mid-morning: Helena could feel light against her eyes, making her eyelids seem slightly red. She carefully cracked one eye open, the bright light causing her momentary blindness and a slight headache. Being careful not to move, she watched the woman in her arms in the morning light, feeling calmed by the easy breathing and peaceful sleep of her lover. *Barbara, my lover*. Helena couldn't believe that they had made love the previous night: she had been wanting to do it for so long, and the completeness she felt afterwards filled her with even more love and affection for the woman who had given it to her.  
  
Barbara had been so gentle at first, careful not to aggravate her injuries, and Helena's release had been so powerful that she lost consciousness for a few minutes after forgetting to breathe. When she awoke, she saw concerned, yet amused green eyes, moist with emotion and love. The sensations she felt were overpowering, and Helena knew then that she was completely and utterly devoted to the woman currently sleeping upon her breast.  
  
It was like they fitted perfectly, although their personalities could often be polar opposites. They had had their disagreements in the past, their weak moments, but each had pulled the other through, and both had grown stronger through their partnership. It seemed logical that their friendship would take itself to the next level......or did it? Helena knew that Barbara had tried to deny her feelings for some time, as she herself had, but neither had been successful at hiding their true affections for one another. Barbara felt she was robbing the cradle, while Helena felt that Barbara was too good for her: it was ironic how they perceived the newest stage of their relationship.  
  
However, this was far from Helena's mind that Saturday morning, as she was content to watch the woman she loved sleep. Her arms tightened their hold on the body they surrounded, as if treasuring the person within. No, Helena would never let Barbara go, the woman she would give her life for and feel pain if she were hurt.  
  
Helena was so absorbed in her musings, that she didn't realize that Barbara had woken up.  
  
"Hey," she whispered, noticing Helena's pensive look and not wanting to disturb her thoughts.  
  
Helena jumped at the sound of Barbara's voice breaking through her reverie. "Hey there," she said back, knowing it sounded lame, but trying to sound as casual as she could. She was slightly embarassed at being caught off guard, and her previous thoughts were of the same woman who was looking questioningly at her now. She felt guilty for a second, then realized she had no need to be, and smiled at her lover.  
  
"How's your arm?" Barbara asked, reaching up and checking Helena's bandage.  
  
"S'ok," Helena shrugged. She winced as Barbara checked the patch on her stomach, though, a look that wasn't unnoticed by the redhead.  
  
"Are you still in pain?" she asked, now concerned that her motivations last night had been selfish and had caused Helena discomfort.  
  
"Nah, it's okay. I kinda forgot that was there," Helena said, sheepishly. Neither seemed to want to broach the topic of the previous night, though both realized it had been a momentous occasion, and neither regretted it, either. The only question was, where it would lead.  
  
"So," Helena said, feeling the tension in the air and trying to fill the silence.  
  
Barbara interrupted her comment. "I want you to know that last night was one of the best nights of my life," she said, looking Helena straight in the eye. Her sincerity startled Helena, who was still trying to wrap her head around the idea of Barbara and herself together. Dating. Going to the movies. Holding hands. Kissing. Making love. Having a loving, normal relationship...or at least, as normal could be under the circumstances. She was willing to give it a try.  
  
Finally, she smiled at the woman still nestled in her arms and said, "Me too." The smile still remained when Barbara came up to kiss her, and remained for the rest of the day. She got weird looks from the kid, but she didn't care. She was in love, and she wanted the world to know it. 


End file.
